


Conspiracies, Deceptions and Fake Identities

by iwoebegone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Time Travel, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwoebegone/pseuds/iwoebegone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years after the war, Harry is married happily enough - until a twenty-four year old man who looks startlingly like Severus Snape takes up the post of potions professor. Finding out it was time-travel, Harry swoops in to save the day. Getting Snape back to his own time was Harry’s only intention. Promise!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snarry-a-Thon12, betaed by crimson_vipera in LJ. Enjoy!

"Harry, someone could find us!" a female voice whispered, the end of her sentence becoming a moan.

"Not if we keep real quiet and do this real quick..." A sound like slapping of flesh on flesh, a sharp gasp and a moan louder than the first followed the reply of someone who could only be Harry. No more words followed.

Their movements became faster and more frantic, before with a grunt and a cry, the couple reached their completion. Their harsh breathing resonated loudly in the otherwise quiet and deserted corridor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry late that night.

After a while, Harry spoke, sounding winded.

"Brilliant, Ginny." He pulled out and rolled over to lie flat on the cold stone floor underneath, nary a care for the coldness or his exposed bits. The woman, Ginny, only chuckled in response. She did not bother moving, with her rumpled robes pushed up her naked thighs; too sated and uncaring of her nudity in their afterglow. With a light scratching noise, Mrs Norris appeared around the corner. She hissed at them and left soon after. They laughed.

“Prissy cat.” Ginny wrinkled her nose, her laughter dying to a smile.

“Too true.” Harry said, before smiling as well. "It's been a while since we've done that. Still brilliant."

His hand crawled to the ‘V’ of her legs. She swatted it lightly, chuckling still.

"You just had a piece of that. Let me recover first."

“Is that a promise?” He leered, hovering above her again and licking one of her nipples. Ginny whined.

“Harry!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

They were just getting started again when a faint voice – they didn’t even hear any footsteps– questioned out of nowhere.

“What is it, Mrs. Norris…?”

Their heads snapped to the side to see an obviously drunken man, his face obscured by the lack of light, stumbling towards them, his steps strangely silent. The couple froze, not knowing what to do. The man continued to approach in slow unmeasured steps until moonlight from the windows illuminated his face. Harry’s breath caught, while the man raged and staggered hurriedly to them.

“Lily! You-you bastard! Get away from her, Potter! Get aw-rgh…” The man bumped heavily against the wall at his side, the end of his tirade becoming unintelligible as he heaved. He fainted soon after, falling over his own vomit. Ever the mediwitch, Ginny scrambled away from Harry’s arms and ran over to the unconscious man, casting spell after spell to relieve him. Harry continued to stare.

The man looked startlingly like a young Severus Snape.

***

“He looks like Snape!” Harry screeched, pacing inside the safety of his wife’s office. He was glaring at the door the whole time, as if he could look through it and at the man sleeping in one of the Infirmary beds beyond. Ginny, seated behind her desk with her arms crossed over her chest, frowned disapprovingly, but nodded.

“Yes. And after his display before, I think he is. He’s introduced himself as Salvatore Smythe, though. He’s the new Potions Master that Minerva hired this year, and two weeks into term, I’ve got to say he’s treated the students way better than Snape did.” 

“Salvatore Smythe, my arse! He’s Snape!” Harry couldn’t let it go. He was _Snape_.

For years after the war, Harry had had nightmares about the man. Of how he could have saved him from that horrible attack, said thanks afterwards, apologized, argued, _anything_. His dreams of him occurred even more frequently than those of Sirius’ disappearance through the Veil. Harry had consciously worked on those dreams and had succeeded, for the better part of two years, in repressing them.

But _no_ , Severus Snape just had to bug him again when he was almost at peace. The bastard just _had_ to be petty and come back to mess up his life again. And on his fourth anniversary no less!

“I _know_ , Harry. But it doesn’t explain why he looks our age. He should be around forty-something right now.” Ginny sighed, standing up and walking over to him. Harry stopped his pacing at her defeated tone: as though she’d mulled the information over in her head many times and came up with more questions that answers. He hadn’t thought of that. The man, though looking younger and sporting a new haircut, didn’t look that much different than his older self.

“He clearly wants to start a new life. He must have gone to the extent of inventing a potion to look younger: not a glamour or a spell that’d be temporary, as I’ve checked him extensively and found none. He created a false identity. Remember, I asked you to look him up? He’s in the Ministry records,” Ginny reasoned.

Now that she mentioned it, Harry did remember looking up a Salvatore Smythe – twenty-three years old, Irish magical school, orphaned with no relatives, and a Potions Master. He sighed. She had a point.

“Alright. So what do we do now?”

“Nothing. He deserves peace. Don’t bother him,” Ginny threatened, hands on her hips. Harry sighed. When his wife got like that, it was better to acquiesce than to argue.

“Yes, dear.”

It’s didn’t mean he wouldn’t question Snape _politely_ , though. That wasn’t bothering.

***

His first opportunity to converse with “Salvatore” came up a week after the incident, when his wife was at the Burrow visiting her parents for the day. Harry, pleading tiredness from Auror duties the day before, stayed behind. Ginny didn’t suspect a thing.

He was going to confront the man today. After all, he deserved peace, too!

Hazarding a guess that Snape stayed at Hogwarts even on the weekends, Harry Apparated outside the school gates mid-afternoon. He strode through the halls hurriedly, trying not to imagine the many ways Ginny could kill him if she found out, or else he might chicken out.

Arriving at his destination, Harry stalled. He didn’t know what he was going to say to young-looking Snape. He was actually unsure about what he felt on the matter, whether he was happy or angry that the man was alive, and he had had a week to think it through. If that wasn’t indecision, he didn’t know what was.

Taking a deep breath and letting go of the bit of stray thread on his dark green jumper he unconsciously worried, he decided to do what he always did: wing it. He raised his fist to the door of the Potions office and rapped twice.

The door opened.

“You’re early, Minerv- Oh hello!”

He was right. Snape was in. What he didn’t anticipate was a _smiling_ Snape, though. Harry gaped.

“How terribly rude of me. Please, come in!”

Harry absent-mindedly ambled through while Smythe – he could manage calling him that now: a _smiling_ Snape, really? – closed the door and gestured him to one of the chairs before the desk. The man further shocked him by taking the other chair as well.

“Tea?” Smythe inquired politely. Harry nodded once jerkily. Inclining his head, Smythe whipped his wand and set the tea things to assemble themselves, smiling all the while.

He expected cold indifference, feigned appointments and, if snarled at, yellowed and crooked teeth. Salvatore’s teeth weren’t perfect, but they were the normal off-white and slightly yellowish set. He welcomed him in his office, and offered tea. He _smiled_.

In what universe do Snapes smile?

Surely this couldn’t be one?

“What can I do for you? Does your relative need Potions tutoring?” he politely inquired, handing a cup of tea and a saucer to Harry, “While this is my first time teaching, I’m willing to extend additional lessons to students who need it.”

Harry was stumped. The man really was pleading ignorance! He tried testing the waters. How far could Snape take this charade?

“No, I didn’t come here for Potions lessons, though I admit I was abysmal at it in my school years.” He chuckled before sipping his tea. Harry looked over the rim of his cup to see Smythe’s reaction. Huh. An answering courteous chuckle. “Tell me, has there been a breakthrough with de-aging potions? Ones that could make you look, I don’t know, ten to twenty years younger?” He questioned flippantly. Hah. Take that.

Smythe didn’t even appear uncomfortable. “Not that I know of! If there has been, I’m sure it would be all over the _Prophet_ by now. People would be clamoring for it. Not that I blame them. I wouldn’t mind availing myself of some, or even having the recipe.” Salvatore’s impassioned speech dwindled down to a somber tone. “I’d want to relive my youth and for once, do what’s right.”

Now Harry was getting somewhere. No matter that there wasn’t a confession of inventing such a potion. Maybe it wasn’t even the cause of Snape’s youthful appearance. Only Snape, who’d done things any lesser man would cringe at just a thought of, would say something like that, though. Harry repressed a smirk.

The Potions Master shook his head as if to shake away his, thoughts before smiling once again at Harry. “If you aren’t here for Potions lessons, then why _are_ you here?”

“I was here last week, saw you drunk and was curious if you’re okay now.” Harry allowed his smirk to show. The other man would interpret it differently. “It was also to check if you’re an alcoholic. After all, it’s my duty to report vices of the staff to the headmistress. Detrimental to the health and safety of students and all that.” He snickered jovially.

“You were the one who brought me to the infirmary! I was going to ask Madam Potter where I could find you,” Smythe gushed, “Thank you for bringing me there the other day. Bad day.” He paused, sipping his own tea. Salvatore’s brow crinkled a bit before he continued conversationally, “So bad that I drank a little more whisky than I could handle. I assure you, it isn’t a habit of mine.” He flashed a quick smile. Harry saw it – the perfect opening.

“It must be really awful if it pushed you to walk around Hogwarts in the middle of the night, silently mind you, and saying names like Lily and Potter.” Harry casually commented, setting down his cup. Smythe froze. Jackpot.

It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough. Smythe sipped his tea and spoke, a little too offhandedly. “Did I really say that? No more excessive drinking for me, then.” He laughed mirthlessly. “And here I thought I was transported back in time and saw something normal for once…” He mumbled before drinking what was left of his now cold tea.

Harry’s mouth was quirked in a triumphant smirk, but Snape’s quiet comment gave him pause. Something wasn’t adding up. He thought seeing his childhood friend, the love of his life, and his bully having sex at a dark corridor at midnight _normal_?

A horrible thought occurred to Harry.

Oh no.

Salvatore Smythe had his Potions Mastery done in a vocational Irish magical school in an otherwise Muggle community. He had no birth certificate, but that was hardly surprising as many witches and wizards didn’t have one and were only archived at Ministry records when they started magical education. There was no listed secondary education, which he chalked up to Muggle schooling. There were names listed for parents, but Harry didn’t bother looking them up, thinking that there was enough evidence that this person was real. Last week, this man expressed a sentiment only Severus Snape could utter, further verified by the earlier statement of supposed normality.

Harry regretted not fully researching everything now.

“Salvatore Smythe is a fabrication of a young Severus Snape lost in time!”

Harry gasped. He could have helped the poor lost man before now!

“Don’t worry Snape, I’ll get you back to your own time!” Harry swore, grasping Snape’s hand around the other’s teacup. Snape started, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“I beg your pardon?”

Snape’s resistance to help was understandable, but how could Harry be of aid if the man wasn’t honest with him? “It’s okay, Snape, you can be honest with me. I’ve figured out why you look so young now. Whatever’s caused the time rift and sent you here to the future, I’ll help you fix it.” Harry vowed. He remembered something then gasped again. Relinquishing his hold on Snape, he paced the room, raking a hand through his hair. “And we’ve got to do it fast! This could seriously affect the outcome of the war and Voldemort’s downfall…”

He continued striding back and forth for a while before the silence registered with him. Stopping, he turned to face the other man. Snape was looking at him with a guarded and calculated expression.

‘Oh, right.’

Approaching Snape, he placed his hands on the other’s shoulders. “Will you let me help you? Please?” he asked seriously. There was a glint of something in Snape’s eyes, agreement Harry guessed, before the man nodded. Harry smiled.

“Good.” Harry stepped back, already thinking of the library at Grimmauld Place and the sections he’d peruse about time travelling. “I’ll go now so I can research, Sna-. Hmm. What do I call you?”

Snape shrugged. “Snape is fine, though I would prefer Salvatore or Smythe in public. To… keep up appearances.” Snape showed his teeth, not quite smiling, with the humor in his eyes.

Harry found he liked that better than the teas and overly bright beaming. Admittedly, Salvatore’s traits were kind of funny, though. “What do _I_ call you?” Snape asked after a while.

‘Oh right, he doesn’t know me yet. Better avoid the wrath while I can.’ Harry cleared his throat. “Harry Evans.”

Snape threw his head back and laughed out loud. ‘What’s so funny?’ Harry’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Are… are you related to Lily?” Snape asked after his chuckles subsided. Harry panicked.

‘Oh shite, my alias came from my mother’s surname!’

“Erm… She’s my cousin.” ‘Nice save, Harry.’

“No _wonder_ you have the same eyes as her.” Snape chuckled again before walking to the door. “Very well, Harry _Evans_ , ‘til we meet again. Floo me when you’ve made headway with the… research.”

Snape opened the door and gestured him outside, the friendly smile back on his face. Only now the smile reached his eyes.

It made Harry smile as well.

“Goodbye, Sal!” Harry said just as the door was being closed behind him. Snape’s shocked face was priceless as the door swung shut on his face.

‘That conversation went rather well,’ Harry thought, chuckling, ‘if not like what I had anticipated.’ He’d not achieved his peace, but he didn’t really count on it. Harry reached the gates and turned on the spot with one thought in mind. There were more pressing matters at hand.


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t believe you, Harry! I _told_ you not to bother Salvatore!”

Harry cringed. “It’s Snape.”

He’d thought he’d gotten off without a hitch. After nicking as many books as he could from Grimmauld Place, he’d hoped to settle for a drink and a start on researching before turning for the night.

“Well?” She pressed.

Harry sighed. Ginny wasn’t even due to be back until tomorrow, but here she was with her hands on her hips before he’d even recovered from Apparating. Harry withdrew the rucksack from his pocket and transfigured it back to its proper size, walking over to the couch as he did so. He dumped it wearily on the floor before sitting down. He gestured for Ginny to do the same. She continued staring him down.

He wasn’t affected. Harry returned her gaze patiently, doing so until she sat gingerly beside him, her frustrated expression morphing to confusion. “Why, Harry?” She sighed, the tension in her body bleeding out to be replaced by fatigue. “Don’t you think he’s experienced enough? You’ve said so yourself. He should be given his due, and right now he deserves peace. Why are you bugging him?” They’d had this conversation many times before, and just as he promised that he was past it, he goes and contradicts his words. She genuinely didn’t understand.

Harry sat up, grasping her hands, his face determined. “That’s just it. I want him to receive what is rightly his. In this case, it’s to go back to his time, no matter how much cruelty and disappointment awaits him. It’s only right.” Ginny was baffled.

“What? What are you going on about, Harry?” Had he gone bonkers?

“When I visited him this afternoon, I discovered something beside Salvatore really being Snape. He _is_ Snape, but from the past! He said so himself!” Ginny’s eyebrow rose. He let go of her hands and stood up to pace. Couldn’t she see that Snape was trapped in time? The clues were all there!

“Remember last week, Ginny? He said my parents’ name, his footsteps were light—meaning he experienced war and was a spy already but has not disciplined himself enough not to drink, his _very_ recent magical certificate and he _just appeared out of bloody nowhere._ ” Harry raked a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. At least Ginny was starting to believe him, even if there was still doubt on her face. She lounged back, her face pensive.

“Now that you mention it, when I checked him there were no potions detected in his system that could have caused an age reversion. I’ve written that off because if he didn’t want it to be detected he could have made them so…” She trailed off, her face clearing. “But maybe no potions appeared in his system because he really didn’t _ingest_ any. And if there was a potion invented to become young again it would have been made commercial and I would’ve heard of it!” She crowed, making Harry smile. He knew she’d see it his way.

The doubt crept back to her face however, and she asked. “Still, coming from the past… Isn’t that a little far-fetched?”

He flopped back down beside her, biting his lower lip. “I thought that too, but earlier, when I commented upon his drunken remark about my parents, he said ‘And here I thought I was transported back in time and saw something normal for once,’” Harry said, making air quotes with his fingers. “Doesn’t that sound like he came from the past? Commenting on something that happened a long time ago like it was an everyday occurrence cannot be normal.”

“I don’t know Harry. It seems like you’re reading too much into this…”

“Just because I’ve been reading a few mystery novels the past few months, it doesn’t mean anything!” he defended himself, while Ginny muttered, ‘A lot, if you ask me.’ “If you’re not going to help me, then fine. I’ll do it myself.” He crossed his arms across his chest, pouting. Harry didn’t care if he was being childish. He hadn’t really planned on telling Ginny. She asked for it.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Harry. I’m sorry,” Ginny said, squeezing his thigh. Against his wishes, Harry’s body reacted. “I’ll help you with whatever this is.”

“Okay, thanks. Let’s do it tomorrow…” Harry reached for her, angling his head down for a kiss. Ginny happily returned it, burying her hands in his hair. ‘He’s too easily distracted,’ she thought, closing her eyes and moaning as one of his hands cupped her breasts.

He drew back a little and Ginny thought he was going to remove her dress. When he didn’t move however, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.

“Before I forget, he doesn’t know who I am, so when I’m at Hogwarts call me Harry Evans.” His face was so stern; it looked ridiculous with his hair messier than normal and his disheveled clothes.

‘Seriously, Harry Evans?’ Ginny thought, snickering. ‘He couldn’t think of a better alias?’ She gave over to the urge and laughed before grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him again.

***

True to form, Ginny did help him research Snape’s predicament. They pored over book after book and they made some progress. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he had a very attractive wife who was barely home because of her job. He had every right to spend quality time with her and their wide bed, as well as other furniture around their house.

It was the last night of the weekend however, and they had to go back to their responsibilities. They were currently curled up in their bed, basking in the heat of the fireplace and the high of their last round of lovemaking. The silence was comfortable and Harry was loath to disturb it.

Ginny put him out of his misery. “What is it, love?” she whispered, grasping the hand atop her stomach. Harry gripped her back briefly and sighed.

“It’s Snape. I feel bad for the man, you know? We’ve been fooling around these two days—” Ginny snorted.

“It’s your fault,” she said, “because you have the attention span of a teenager.” Harry bit her shoulder playfully. She yelped.

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously, we’ve got to research more earnestly. Could you talk to him when you can and find out what he knows? I forgot to ask him when I visited him. It’ll surely help with solving this case.”

“A case, Mr. Potter? Ever the Auror… Or should I say, ever the detective?” She sniggered. Harry pinched her thigh, making her yelp again. She turned around and glared at him. “That’s not the way to ask a favor from your busy and hardworking wife.” She sighed when he just stared at her.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Mind you, the infirmary is a busy place and I might not get to talk to him privately right away.” She paused, staring at him seriously, “and I still say no to bothering him. He seems happy.”

“He’s not happy! He’s just coping the only way he knows how! Have you ever known Snape to smile like that? It’s a defense mechanism,” Harry said with conviction before carding a hand through her hair, his tone becoming gentle. “Just please try and talk to him? For me?” She sighed again, spooning herself in Harry’s arms.

“The things I do for you,” Harry chuckled.

“Thanks, Ginny.”

“Sleep now.”

***

Let it never be said that Ginny didn’t keep her promises. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the infirmary was a busy place, however, so it was after regrowing a few bones after a Quidditch scuffle, mending a deep cut after an impromptu mock Wizarding duel and tending to a hysterical student because of her first period that Madam Potter made her way to Professor Smythe’s office after dinner. Some students still gave her a wide berth and stared blatantly even after four years of being married to Harry Potter. She still thrilled at it.

Reaching the office, she composed herself first before knocking. Smythe opened it and, upon seeing her, genially ushered her in. Ginny was surprised.

“Madam Potter! What can I do for you?” he asked, inviting her to sit. She sat, her expression cautious.

‘Why is Snape acting like Smythe to me?’ she thought, but she said, “Oh, I’m not in need of anything, Professor Smythe. I just wanted to see how you were doing, as the first time we’ve talked to each other it was in a less social setting.” She smiled politely. “How’s Hogwarts for you? Fitting in alright?”

“Oh yes, quite comfortably. The students are quite a handful, but I love teaching them.” He returned the smile, taking the seat opposite her. “Tea?”

She didn’t know what to make of it. “Uh, sure.” She fidgeted as she watched Smythe conjure tea and biscuits. “That’s good then. Professor Smythe-“

“Please, call me Salvatore. We’re colleagues and it sounds unusual to be addressed so formally by someone who is not my student.” He said, handing her a cup. She accepted it, shocked, before clearing her throat.

“Okay, Salvatore. Um see, I’m here for Harry Evans…” Ginny said, before grounding to a halt. ‘Well, tactic was never really my strong suit.’ Smythe was looking at her inquiringly.

“So it’s not really a social call then, Madam Potter?” Ginny blushed.

“Well, no…” At least she was getting somewhere. “So, it’s okay not to pretend with me, Snape. I’m here to help you.” she vowed, setting down her cup. Smythe did the same, but his face reflected confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

‘Is he playing daft?’ Ginny mused. “I said I’m here to help you. Harry told me about your situation and I’m willing to help. If you could tell me the details of how you arrived in this time-“

“Excuse me, but I don’t follow...”

Ginny was getting frustrated. “Snape, stop acting already!” She banged her fist on the table, making Smythe jump. “I know who you are because my husband and I heard what you said that night about Lily and his father. The charade is up. Just bloody tell me how you came to be here,” she paused, taking a cleansing breath before continuing, “so I can help you.” Her smile was tremulous, she knew, but it should suffice.

“Um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about, Madam Potter,” Smythe stammered, looking scared. 

Ginny was shocked. ‘Snape, scared?’ Even his hands were shaking! ‘Maybe I really overdid it.’ She tried a different tactic.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, Salvatore. I may have overstepped the line.” Smythe smiled, but she could see that he was still tense and wary of her. “And please, call me Ginny.”

“Ginny,” he said, as if he was testing out her name. It made Ginny smile, thinking that it was hard to reconcile this meek person to the Snape she knew. He spoke again, words straightforward, if his tone was subdued. “I’ve met a Harry Evans; he was the one who brought me to you when I was drunk?”

‘Aha!’

“But he only asked how I was and we didn’t speak of anything else. Who is this Snape you speak of?” Smythe asked, genuinely curious. It didn’t seem like he was lying, his head cocked to the side and his face earnest.

Now Ginny was confused. Did Harry lie to her? But that wasn’t plausible, as Harry rarely did. That only meant one of two things.

One, Harry was having her on, or two, Snape didn’t want anyone other than Harry knowing. As her husband was prone to be serious about all things concerning Snape, the latter seemed to be more possible. Still, it was all a bit fishy to Ginny.

‘Something’s not adding up.’ Ginny frowned.

Smythe, as that was the only persona Snape was willing to show her, was waiting patiently for an answer. She almost forgot he was there, he was so silent: another Smythe trait that Snape didn’t possess. Remembering that he’d asked a question, she scrambled to remember what it was.

“Oh, Severus Snape. You’ve probably heard of him, as my husband, the Chosen One, Harry Potter, has worked to clear his name and he was lauded as a hero in the Second Wizarding War. He and I were reminded of him when we saw you, as you look so alike.” She looked him in the eyes, noting rapt attention and awe and nothing else. “But if you say you’re not him, I believe you.” It clearly appeared she could not pull anything out of him.

Ginny promptly stood up and extended her hand to Smythe. “Thank you for the chat, Salvatore, and I apologize again for my brash attitude.” Smythe stood up as well and shook her hand enthusiastically, smiling brightly once again.

“It’s quite alright, Ginny. I can’t believe you’re Harry Potter’s wife! The celebrated Savior of the Wizarding World, and a kind one as you’ve said, for it takes compassion to strive for the clearing of a fellow war veteran’s name. If you need any potions for the infirmary, anything at all, feel free to contact me so I can restock your stores.”

“Will do. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Ginny!”

***

Harry wasn’t having much luck with his search, either. He showed up at work on time, shrunken books for perusal in between filing boring paper work safely in his pocket, when a notorious leprechaun wanted for stealing pots of gold from rainbows was reportedly sighted in a remote Wizarding village in Bath. He was one of the unlucky ones drafted to deal with it. After a wild chase on land, in the air and on water, and a few bruises from stray Galleons the creature had enlarged and thrown at them, they’d successfully apprehended the criminal by midday. When he returned to the DMLE floor in the Ministry, he was dragging his feet exhaustedly enough for his fellow Auror and best friend Ronald Weasley to notice.

“That rough eh, mate?” he remarked, walking up to Harry’s booth with a sympathetic yet amused face. “To think that leprechauns could be the death of you…” Harry glared, flopping down on his chair and stretching his arms above his head.

“You say that every time I have a mission. It’s getting kind of old.”

“Not too old for me.” Ron chuckled, clearly enjoying Harry’s discomfort.

“Prat,” Harry joked, reaching out to punch one of Ron’s legs. Ron mimed grasping his leg as if in excruciating pain, making Harry laugh. “Thanks, mate. Needed that. Leprechauns are really tough despite their appearance.” Ron smiled.

“Anytime. Say, how’re you and Ginny? Didn’t see you two at the Burrow yesterday for Sunday brunch.” Harry blushed in spite of himself.

Really, they were already married! Ron howled in laughter, slapping Harry’s back.

“Way to go, Harry!”

“Shut up, Ron,” Harry muttered, turning his chair to his desk, intent on ignoring the other man. Ron obviously wasn’t letting it go.

“Who knew you’d be such an animal in bed? Surely not me or Hermione, you were always so innocent back at school…” At the mention of Hermione, Harry remembered Snape. He groaned, making Ron stop in his reminiscing. “What is it, mate?”

Harry turned his chair and faced Ron again, the concern evident in his friend’s face. “After work, could I speak to you and Hermione? Ginny’s at Hogwarts right now, so let’s meet up at my house. Dinner’s on me.” If there was one person who could figure out this case, it was Hermione. Ron must have picked up the seriousness in his tone, for he just nodded his head, though his eyes narrowed.

“You keeping this from Ginny?”

“Oh no! I know it sounded that way, but she knows what I’m about to tell you, promise,” Harry reassured him, smiling as he did so. Ron was such an overprotective brother. Seeing that Harry was sincere, Ron smiled as well and with a pat on his back, turned around to leave Harry’s booth.

Ron waited until he was a few feet away from Harry before he spoke, “See you later, Harry. Make sure there are no stray whips and cuffs at your sitting room, will you? I have enough mental images about my best mate and my sister having sex.”

Ron dodged the paperweight Harry threw, laughing all the while.

***

Whatever Harry expected to hear after telling Hermione and Ron about Snape, it wasn’t this.

“You’re bonkers, Harry.”

“It’s not possible!”

“It _is_ true, and I’m not crazy!”

They were in Harry’s sitting room, whip and cuffs free despite Ron’s comments, sipping tea after eating take-away dinner at his house. Harry was standing in front of Ron and Hermione who were seated on the couch, chagrined by his best friends’ apparent disbelief. It was Ginny all over again, only worse!

“If you could only see him, he looks so much like Snape, only younger, and after what he said to me, it could only be time travel!”

“But Harry, no one can travel to the future. It’s virtually impossible. There are no records of devices that can enable this - time-turners can only take you to the past. Also, there are no rituals for this, light _or_ dark.” Ron and Harry looked at her incredulously, making her blush. “I’ve researched the topic of time travel extensively during our third year, alright? I was curious!”

The two men shared a look, before bursting out laughing. Hermione harrumphed, crossing her arms. The stern look only fueled Ron and Harry’s laughter. Seeing that she was turning red, however, they slowly stopped, Ron laying a hand on his wife’s thigh in appeasement.

“I’m sorry Hermione, it’s just so _you_ ,” Ron crooned, a last chuckle escaping him. Hermione turned her head away, maintaining her rigid posture, but Harry could see the corner of her mouth twitch. Harry smiled. It was times like these that he treasured because, due to their jobs, the three of them only got together once in a while now. Harry and Ron had the same profession and saw each other regularly, but Hermione was constantly on business trips abroad for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, campaigning for various oppressed, mistreated, and endangered magical creatures. The couples’ bantering brought back fond memories, and never failed to remind him of the good old times.

The two making out was not on his list however, so before the two could get it on, Harry brought the couple’s attention back to him. He cleared his throat loudly. Hermione jumped, blushing, but Ron only grinned wolfishly.

“Hermione, I’m sure you did a lot of research on it, but what if it was a combination of spells or maybe a potion that reacted with something that’s gone wrong? It could still be possible. It’s the only explanation for a young Snape to be here,” Harry said with conviction, dropping down into the armchair beside the lit fireplace across from the couch. Hermione’s face immediately adopted a far away look, deep in thought. Harry wrung his hands together nervously.

He’d read what he could from the books he got at Grimmauld Place in between filing paperwork at work, but as Hermione said, there wasn’t anything about traveling to the future. He was hoping that he just hadn’t read enough about it and that his knowledgeable friend could enlighten him, or it was a mishap of different magical components combined together. Now, he was hoping for the latter.

When Harry pondered Snape’s situation without any distraction at work, he couldn’t think of anything else besides wanting to help Snape in any way he could. He didn’t just want Snape to get back to his own time; he so badly wanted him to survive Nagini’s attack that he thought it was now bordering on obsession. Harry decided it was best not to dwell on the reason at the moment as Hermione prepared to speak.

“When you put it that way, it _is_ plausible for Snape to really have come from the past,” Harry glared at her but she carried on unperturbed, “but it’s a one in a million chance that such a combination could actually occur.” Harry growled, offended that they still didn’t believe him. If that was the case, then that one in a million chance happened! Seeing that Harry was starting to get upset, Ron tried to placate him.

“Alright mate, say Snape really time traveled to the future. How did it happen? You say you’ve spoken to him, but you tell us of possibilities, not what really happened.” Hermione smiled at her husband, seemingly proud of his insight while Harry left his chair to get a pinch of Floo powder from the ceramic pot on the mantle.

“You caught on to that, huh?” Harry muttered under his breath, blushing.

“It’s sort of my job to notice things like that, Harry. Yours too.”

“Yeah, well. I still hoped you wouldn’t. I sort of got him to admit who he was and got so caught up in it, that before I knew, he was shutting the door in my face. But I’ve asked Ginny to talk to him today,” he said before kneeling in front of the fireplace. Throwing in the powder, he shouted, “Hogwarts’ Infirmary, Ginny Potter’s Office!”

Harry put his face through the flame and saw no one was in there. “Ginny?” He called out a few more times and was about to give up when he heard the sound of the door opening and his wife finally came into view. Ginny smiled when she saw him, but there was a troubled look in her eyes.

“Hey, love. Bad time?” Ginny shook her head as Hermione and Ron joined him in front of the fireplace.

“Hi Ron, ‘Mione. Oh no, I’m only going to sort some files. I just came back from Salvatore’s office.” At Hermione and Ron’s surprised look, Ginny explained. “Yeah, Salvatore. He doesn’t seem like Snape at all. He told me to call him that; can you believe it?” Ginny turned back to Harry, her face serious. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, but he acted like he wasn’t Snape, and he denied ever speaking to you about what happened when he was drunk. I even pressured him somewhat, and he acted scared.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “I know we saw him act like Snape, but are you sure he admitted he _was_ Snape? Cause you know, he even praised you and gushed like every other grateful Wizarding citizen. It’s weird. It’s like,” she broke off, yawning, “It’s like I know he’s Snape, but it’s hard to believe because he acts like a different person.”

Harry frowned, confused. Why would Snape still pretend to Ginny? Does he count her as ‘public’? This merited more thought. “Thanks for trying to talk to him, Ginny. I don’t know why he didn’t come clean with you; he admitted to me he was Snape. Why don’t you go to bed and deal with the files tomorrow? You look knackered.” Ginny yawned again as she nodded, mumbling a good-bye as she did so.

As soon as the Floo connection ended, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood up and dusted off their robes, Hermione looking at the Muggle clock hanging above the mantel.

“We’ll be going now too, Harry. It’s late, and I have an early flight to Canada tomorrow. The ministry needs help dealing with the vampire settlement.” 

Harry pouted playfully. “You’re leaving again?”

“And I’m going with her. It’s only for three months. I’ve already filed my leave and all that.” Ron said sheepishly. Now Harry cringed.

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“You know him, Harry. He doesn’t do well with goodbyes. Besides, we’ll be back before you know it.”

Ron and Hermione put on their cloaks and they all walked to the front door. “Try not to get my sister pregnant when I’m away, alright?” Ron teased, patting him on the back. Harry laughed, cuffing him on the back of the head. The redhead yelped before laughing as well. Hermione smiled.

Hermione hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll Floo each other. And if you want, I’ll look into my notes on time travel again in my free time and force Ron to read a book or two.” Hermione relinquished her hold on him and stepped back to the patio beside Ron, who was looking indignant. Harry smiled.

“See you soon, mate,” Ron called out, smiling before Apparating away. Harry expected Hermione to follow Ron immediately, but she stayed where she was, her face contemplative. He lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Harry, what if Snape’s happy as he is? What if he confirmed his identity to you just so you’ll leave him alone? He might be pretending to Ginny, who knew of his slip, because he knew she would let it go. Maybe he wants to start his new life.” She laid a hand on his arm. “A life that has no war and no Voldemort.” She let go. “Think about it.”

Long after Hermione had gone, Harry was still in front of his open doorway, a frown on his face.

***

No, Harry thought, he still wouldn’t give up. He’d do it even if it were he alone.

Standing in front of Smythe’s office a week after their first meeting, Harry resolved to do everything in his power to help get Snape back to his own time. Maybe what Hermione said was true. Maybe Snape was happy here. Maybe he had built a life. Maybe things would change if Snape weren't there in the past. Harry knew though, that he was needed there: a pivotal and instrumental figure in the war. Who knew what would happen if he didn't go back.

"So this is doing something for the greater good. Dumbledore must have felt like this when manipulating my life." Harry mumbled.

He wasn't manipulating Snape's life, though. He asked the man if he could help and he agreed. Right?

Besides, he was going to prevent the man's death. That had to be enough of a repayment for butting into the man's life. If that screwed the timeline, so be it. He wasn't letting Snape die a second time if he could help it.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry briskly knocked on the wooden door. Despite his confidence, he was a little apprehensive. The day before when he Flooed, Snape agreed to meet him but he was acting like Smythe. It made Harry doubt himself and his motives, but as soon as he heard that McGonagall was in the room, he relaxed. He just hoped that the man talked that way to him because the headmistress was in the room and he did not want to blow his cover, and not because he wanted to go back to pretending to be Salvatore to Harry.

The door that Harry was boring holes in with his eyes opened to reveal a sweetly smiling Snape. Harry's heart sank.

“Oh hello. Come in, come in."

Harry shuffled inside and retook the squashy armchair he sat on during their last meeting, his head bowed. He saw Snape walk to the seat opposite him silently with his robes flaring, and Harry was a bit heartened. Only Snape would walk like that. When no offer of tea was forthcoming, he hesitantly peeked through his fringe to look at the other. The impassive face that greeted him made Harry smile. Yes, it was definitely Snape.

"Well, Mr. Evans?"

Harry was confused for a moment, then he remembered that he was using an alias. "Oh sorry. I thought you were going to start acting like Smythe to me. You did so to Ginny." Snape continued gazing at him coolly, making Harry uncomfortable now. Damn the man for making Harry feel like he was in detention.

"I prefer to keep this project between us, Mr. Evans. The fewer people who know about this, the easier it’ll be to, shall we say, leave." Well, that made sense. Harry nodded. He pulled out the shrunken rucksack and spelled it to its proper size while Snape continued looking on. At least he wasn't assigning cauldron cleaning duties or something.

When Harry had laid the few books he brought with him on the table, he turned to his companion, who still did not move an inch, the shrewd look now replaced with calculation. Harry was at a loss. What was Snape's problem? Why wasn't he helping?

"Snape? I thought we were going to start now..." Harry waved his hands over the books unnecessarily. 

Snape crossed his arms across his chest. "I wonder, Mr. Evans, why you are helping me go back in time. Do we become friends? If not, why would you go to such lengths for me?"

Harry lowered his arm, setting his hands primly atop his lap. How was he going to explain? Snape was clearly skeptical of their ever becoming friends. He cleared his throat, looking Snape straight in the eyes.

"No, we're not friends, but I respect you a great deal. You helped shape who I am, and you've saved my life more times then I can count. I've not said my thanks for that, and this is my way of repaying you: by helping you in your problem." Harry withstood Snape's scrutiny until the man gave an almost imperceptible nod. Harry let out the breath he unconsciously held, smiling.

"Now, what say you we tackle these books? And what about some tea, Sal?" Harry teased, as he watched Snape drag one of the texts to him. Snape grumbled, already burying his nose in the book.

"Conjure one your-bloody-self."

Harry laughed as he opened one of the books himself and did just that. He also conjured a plate of Halloween chocolate digestives just to spite the man. It was the month for it, after all. 

Pouring himself and Snape a cup, he let himself gaze at the office he had not had the chance to look around before. Compared to Snape's, Smythe's office did not have jars of slimy and disgusting potion ingredients but had various knick-knacks such as golden stirring rods, a framed picture of Snape in Egypt and miniature silver cauldrons. Plush armchairs done in pleasant earth colors, like the ones he and Snape were sitting in, faced a large cherry wood desk tucked by the far corner where the fireplace was, and were also spread around the spacious room. Paintings of potions masters and mistresses lined the wall behind the desk. All in all, the room looked warm and inviting despite being in the dungeons. A far cry from the room Harry remembered Snape having.

Harry found that he liked it.

Bringing himself back to the task at hand, Harry looked at the book he was holding. _Time travelling and how to do it._ He’d already read this one. Remembering something that he meant to ask Snape long ago but never had the time to before, he looked up at the silently reading man.

Snape looked healthy. As he’d noticed before, he still looked a lot like his older self: same height, same build, but with a few changes. For one, the man’s face was not its old pasty white, but a little tanned. His hair was still long but not as greasy: just straight and wavy. His nose was still big but not at all crooked. His fingers were long and elegant, free of stains.

Right. The question.

"Say, Snape, how did you arrive here? Was it a spell, a potion, a ritual, or a combination of those?"

Snape looked up from his book, his brow furrowing. "Actually, I can't remember. I may have been sleeping at the time it happened. I suddenly found myself in the Shrieking Shack with blood all around me. I remember the feeling the time travel invoked however, so as soon as I see a description of it, I'll be able to identify it."

"That makes it so much harder. Well, I'll get as many books as I can and draw you up a list of descriptions to look through," Harry said. Already unearthing parchment and quill from inside his bottomless bag, he almost missed Snape’s mouth twitch in a small smile.

"Thank you," he said and Harry gaped.

Well, wasn't Snape just full of surprises?


	3. Chapter 3

“Tell me, Mr. Evans, how did you know about the slip-up that unraveled my oh-so-intricate cover up?” Snape drawled during their next meeting that Saturday. “Last time I checked, it was Madam Potter and her husband who overheard my drunken sentiment.”

Harry froze. He hadn’t thought of that! He introduced himself as Harry Evans without thinking that he put Ginny in a bad light as an adulteress. Ginny was many things, but unfaithful she was not. She was fiercely loyal to him to the point of possessiveness. He hastened to explain, setting down the book he was reading.

“Yeah, they were the ones to see and hear you say that. I’m a close friend of theirs, you see, and Harry was so distressed after that night that he told me.” He gulped. Had he avoided the disaster? Snape looked at him with a piercing look, before doing that half smile of his.

“Indeed. Peculiar, however, that you share the same first name as the Savior of the Wizarding World.” Snape drawled, his eyes glinting. Did he still think Ginny unfaithful?

“Yes, yes. Lily and my mother, her cousin, named Harry and me thinking it would be hilarious.” Harry’s laugh was maybe a little too forced, but, thankfully, Snape let the matter go. As he turned back to reading the parchment Harry had given him, Harry sighed silently in relief. A crisis averted.

Harry had no intention of starting this mission of helping Snape with a lie. He didn’t want to bring Ginny in and make her appear a bad person. There was nothing for it, though, as it was the only way that Snape would trust him. Knowing him, the reason why he didn’t come clean with Ginny was because she was Harry Potter’s wife. It was a good thing, then, that he didn’t look so much like his father anymore. He’d grown out his hair to chin length, which made it wavy and not sticking out in different directions. Having more of his mother’s features in adulthood also helped.

When, after a few minutes of reading, Snape’s face remained impassive, Harry became discouraged.

“Still nothing? What about the _Alternis Tempus_ ritual? Or the _Deinceps_ charm?” Snape sighed, setting down the parchment and looking once again at Harry.

“No. Their descriptions do not jog my memory at all. The _Alternis Tempus_ ritual details a dream-like sensation, and it only allows the caster a glimpse into an alternate time; a very literal translation of its purpose from its Latin title if you ask me. The _Deinceps_ charm, while it forwards time, makes the person or object age as well. It does not retain its original state. In addition, it is a dark charm, therefore has side effects of possible emaciation, hallucinations and death, not counting that it also only speeds up time for a few months and not decades, as in my case.” Harry’s face fell. 

Snape’s apathetic façade scrunched up momentarily, as if he had stepped on a particularly nasty thing. “Stop sulking, Mr. Evans. There are books still to be read and Hogwarts’ library awaits scouring.” The effort to encourage was so not like Snape that Harry just had to laugh. Looking disgruntled, Snape returned to perusing the list again. Harry saw that he wasn’t as offended as he wanted to seem, though, as the edges of his mouth twitched in a smile.

His chuckles dying down, Harry smiled and pulled out another one of the books he’d brought with him to read. Snape wouldn’t be trying to cheer him up if he’d known Harry was a Potter. Faking his identity was definitely worth it.

***

“Tell me about my mo-cousin,” Harry requested while they were taking a break and drinking tea by the fireplace at Snape’s office. It was one of their weekly Saturday meetings again, and, as before, they were not having much luck. They’ve even started looking at the books at Hogwarts. If Harry had to read one more book without taking a break, he’d die of frustration.

“Lily?” Snape’s face took on an uncomfortable expression—so slight a change that Harry would have missed it had he not been looking for it. Harry never forgot that at one point Snape had loved his mum. Besides the few encounters in their childhood that Harry had seen in Snape’s memories, he was really curious about how their relationship had been through the years. Snape set down his tea in front of the low coffee table between them and sat back in the comfy armchair, an eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t get to know her much, you see, as she was the same age as my mother. She also died right before we could have really bonded…” Harry let his words trail off, taking a sip of his tea as he watched Snape carefully. 

Snape sighed. “Very well.” 

Harry smiled; before their weekly meetings he hadn’t thought that Snape would acquiesce to anything that he asked of him. He was slowly coming to know the good man Dumbledore kept on telling Harry about: a good companion, an intelligent conversationalist and a superb researcher. He was finding a friend in Snape. A friend who listened to him, talked with him like a normal thinking person, and did not humiliate him but teased occasionally. Snape was still snarky, but when the barbs were not directed at him, it was really funny. 

Snape cleared his throat, looking at a point behind Harry’s shoulder. “Lily was my best friend. She was my childhood friend, and before we started Hogwarts we spent every day together. When we were Sorted into different Houses, I was of the notion that our precarious friendship would end but,” Snape smiled wistfully, “ever the Gryffindor, she did not let House prejudices stop her from talking to me, a slimy Slytherin. I loved her.” Snape laughed hollowly. “She would have still been my friend if I had not made that stupid comment back in school.” Snape paused, his face becoming suspiciously blank. “I would still have had her as a friend, then,” he whispered.

Harry’s heart broke for this man, this young man who clearly regretted ever pushing away his only friend. Harry knew that Snape, _Severus_ , would never let this go and would try to atone for it in any way he could. Harry stood from his chair and knelt by Severus, his hand reaching out to squeeze the man’s knee.

“I’m your friend,” Harry soothed before he smiled. He meant it. He was rewarded with a true smile from Severus. Harry’s smile grew bigger.

With one final pat on Severus’ knee, Harry stood up and walked to the door, his steps light. “I’ll get you back to your own time and you’ll make up with her. I can’t promise she’ll, um, love you back, but you’ll have her as a friend again.” Looking back and seeing Severus with a sad look on his face, Harry’s smiled encouragingly. “Don’t be like that. I’ll be making sure of it.” Opening the door, Harry gestured at the hallway. “Well? Let’s get a move on. There’re more of those books in the library. I clearly remember you saying it ‘awaits scouring’.”

Harry was gratified when Severus shook his head at him and preceded him out the door, the forlorn look gone from his face. Yes, he would make sure _his friend_ got what he deserved. Harry thrilled at being one of Severus’ friends.

***

“Why are you spending all your free time helping me, Mr. Evans?”

“Please, call me Harry.”

“I’ll take it into consideration. Well?”

It was Saturday again, and Harry found himself in another tight spot. Why was it that every meeting Severus had an awkward question for him? Harry set the parchment he was writing on down on the coffee table between them. They had moved to Severus’ sitting room in his private quarters because Harry ran late for their weekly meeting. Ginny was pressing him to give up pestering Severus again. Harry sighed. Should he tell the truth? Severus was looking at him appraisingly, waiting for an answer. ‘I wonder if he knows Legilimency yet?’

“I want you to go back to your own time, okay?” Harry huffed. Severus’ eyebrow rose, his face turning impassive once again. ‘We were past that!’ Harry thought. Severus was still sparse with his expressions, but he didn’t pull the blank face as much as before. ‘Oh shit.’ “That’s not what I meant!” Harry sat forward in his chair, nearer to the other man, but Severus sat back, his back ramrod straight.

“Then what, pray tell, did you mean?” Severus drawled, his tone icy. Harry cringed.

“I really want to help you get back to your own time and make up with Lily, alright? And the only way to do that is to research during the weekends, as I don’t have enough time on weekdays because of work. Besides, I don’t come here on Sundays!” Harry defended. Snape only hummed in recognition, turning back to reading one of their books again. Harry huffed, not wanting to be ignored. He got enough of that from his busy wife, thank you very much.

Harry and Severus continued reading in companionable silence until Harry yawned rather loudly. Severus looked up at the clock above his mantel, which was pointing to ‘Go to bed, it’s late, Idiot.’ He set down the book he was reading.

Harry also saw the time and reluctantly stood up, not wanting to go home just yet. Their conversation had not ended on good terms and he was loath to leave it at that. Harry slowly gathered his things while Severus Banished their tea things, the man still not talking. Harry sighed dejectedly.

When all was put away, Harry trudged towards the door. Severus’ voice stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going home.”

“It’s late. Sleep here and go home tomorrow,” Severus said, his tone casual, as he Summoned a blanket and a pillow to set on the couch.

Harry smiled. They were good.

***

Ginny returned to Hogwarts that Monday, irritated. Harry had not come home that Saturday and only showed up Sunday afternoon, all chirpy, and immediately headed to his study with nothing but a peck on her lips and a comment that he was going to research more and was not to be disturbed. They didn’t have enough time together as it was! She didn’t want Snape taking up her husband’s time all weekend!

Stepping into her office, she was immediately bombarded with arguing students and the stern voice of Sprout beyond her office door. Ginny sighed. Another busy day at work.

The two students were, surprise, surprise, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, fifth years caught hexing each other before breakfast in front of the Great Hall.

Sprout prattled on and on about how the students were casting hexes without a care for the others who were watching, and how wrong it was. Ginny was still frustrated with Harry, however, so she ignored the professor as she tended to the glaring students. As she finished up, though, something about what Sprout said registered with her.

“- Professor Smythe broke them up, bless him. Reminds me of Severus: no snark, but like the late Headmaster, terribly sexy. He seemed to have changed since your husband has started to visit him regularly. Good influence, Harry is, bringing out Salvatore’s serious traits. If he wasn’t as young as he was, I’d date him!”

Soon enough, Sprout and the students left her wing, but the professor’s last words rang clear in Ginny’s ears.

She didn’t like what she heard. Not one bit.

***

“You spend an awful lot of time with him, Harry. You’ve said he treats you like the old Snape.” The way she was staring at him was making him uncomfortable. It was a Sunday; another one of Harry’s meetings had run late, so that he came home just that noon. She attacked him as soon as he entered the door, hands on her hips. She had been waiting for this.

Harry fidgeted. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a masochist,” she said.

He gawked. “He isn’t mean at all! This Snape’s nice!” Harry insisted. 

Ginny frowned. “So now that he becomes nice, you go visit him more than me?” she scolded, jabbing a finger at him. 

Harry looked confused. “I don’t visit him all the time. I drop by your office every time I visit Hogwarts,” he said defensively, walking over to her. 

Ginny’s face started to redden. “Liar! Sprout told me you visit Snape regularly!” she screamed. Before he could reply, Ginny brandished her wand and pointed it at him. Harry backed away, alarmed. “I know about your crush on the Half-Blood Prince, Harry! Hermione told me!” 

Harry blanched, taking a step back. Seeing his reaction, tears sprang to her eyes. “Tell me Harry, are you having an affair with him?”

Harry gaped. “No, Ginny! We’re just friends! I’ve visited him once or twice the past week because of research, and I went to your office both times!” he said, approaching her slowly as Ginny shakily held her wand pointed at him. “These past two Saturdays I was so tired because of work that I slept on his couch. His couch, with him inside his bedroom on his own bed.” 

Ginny had now lowered her wand, the tears still flowing down her face. Harry put his arms around her cautiously, and she broke down, sobbing even more. 

Harry caressed her back soothingly, whispering in her ear as she clutched at his shirt. “He hasn’t become a spy yet, he isn’t as bitter and cruel as the Snape we knew. I just want to help him get back to his own time, Gin. Nothing else is happening between us.”

He was used to her antics now, as every time he was rumored to be with someone else she became a jealous wreck. Ginny’s sobs slowly died down to hiccups, and her grip on him eased, as he knew would happen. She pulled back just enough to see his face, her own streaked with tears and pleading.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No, Ginny. I’m not.”

“Good.” Ginny just hugged him again in a death grip. Harry sighed silently. He had some making up to do.

***

“You spend an awful lot of time at the infirmary nowadays, Mr. Evans,” Severus drawled, setting down the book he was reading. It was another weekly meeting, and Severus’ day for asking one of his uncomfortable questions. And this was something Harry did not want to answer. It was bad enough that Ginny was giving him a hard time, accusing him of having illicit affairs with Severus. It triggered Harry’s fantasies of the Half-Blood Prince once again, but now it was fueled with images of his _straight_ friend Severus. 

He tried distracting the man. “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Harry.”

“When I have earned it, Mr. Evans.” No such luck. “Tell me, are you really-”

“She’s my best friend! I want to spend time with her!” Harry interjected. “Besides, I’m… I’m queer.” Where did that come from?

“Really, Mr. Evans?” Severus said, covering what little distance there was between them on Severus’ couch. Harry gulped. He couldn’t make out the strange glint in the other man’s eye. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I do this.” Severus leaned his head down to Harry’s and kissed him.

‘Oh my god.’ Severus’ hand reached behind his head, pulling it to him and angling it just so. A questing tongue teased the seam of his lips, making Harry moan, and the tongue entered his mouth. The kiss became deeper. ‘Severus is one hell of a kisser: better than my dreams.’

Harry’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He whimpered and reluctantly pushed Severus back. Severus acquiesced and relinquished his lips, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “What about Li-lily?” Harry breathed, damning himself for reminding the man but wanting to know. “Didn’t… Didn’t you say that you loved her?” 

Severus’ smile confused him further. “I’m not in love with her, Harry. I love her like a sister.” 

Harry smiled brightly at the response, and then he frowned. Even if Severus didn’t love his mother romantically, there was no reason for him to feel so happy. Sobering, he extricated himself from Severus’ arms and sat down as far away from the other man as possible, his face scrunched up with guilt. Severus frowned, but he let go and sat down properly himself, mindful of the distance Harry set between them. Harry groaned and slouched, putting his head in his hands.

This was wrong on so many levels. First and foremost, he was married, and last time he checked he was straight. He also just recently assured Ginny that he was not having an affair with Severus. He was the only one to blame, as Severus had no idea that he was already married. His erection flagged. Harry was disgusted with himself for getting one in the first place.

“I can’t do this.” Harry whispered. Severus remained silent.

Standing up, Harry grabbed his coat and left, not even sparing a glance at Severus.

The boisterous laughter of the students and the twittering of the paintings after the silence he left seemed almost accusing.


	4. Chapter 4

He was merely infatuated, Harry told himself as he got home to his empty house that night. A passing fancy. The emotions that surfaced and the arousal he experienced were perfectly normal reactions to an interesting man who had piqued his interest for a long time. Nothing to be guilty about.

Despite his reasoning, he threw himself into his work. He Firecalled Ginny every day and mingled with his coworkers. He assiduously ignored his study. When that didn’t work, he drowned himself in whisky as he lounged one evening in his study. He masturbated to the thought of Severus that night.

The books he checked out of Hogwarts mocked him from his desk.

He fucked Ginny many times with assiduity that weekend, never once closing his eyes for fear of seeing black hair instead of red. She happily complained of the soreness that followed and ceased her nagging at last. Harry did not return to Severus’ office that Saturday.

Severus did not contact him, either.

“This is so fucked up,” Harry moaned one Wednesday morning, waking up alone in his sitting room with an empty bottle of Firewhisky at his feet for the third time that week. The crick in his neck and the pounding in his head dragged his attention back to the reality that was his miserable life. He remained unmoving in the armchair with his head thrown back and his eyes closed as the past two weeks came crashing back to him.

He’d tried forgetting Severus’ attraction to him. He’d tried reasoning and distracting himself. They’d only kissed after all. It didn’t mean anything. Ginny was his wife. Severus was a man. Harry was not an adulterer. He respected his wife. He’d tried to look at it logically and quash the turmoil that was his feelings.

And for the most part, he was successful. He’d gone two weeks with no contact with Severus. The nights that he felt something, the copious amounts of alcohol swiftly dealt with it. Hermione’s Firecall last night was the last straw, however. He was torn, but he had to fulfill his promise to Severus, for he rarely went back on his word. He resigned himself to one last drinking spree and resolved to set aside personal feelings. There were things to do.

Severus would be going back to his own time. There was no doubt about that. His debts to the man would be fully repaid with this ordeal. No use in further entangling himself. The twinge in his chest would go away soon enough after Severus was gone.

***

Harry prepared to go to Hogwarts the succeeding Saturday. True to his word, he had stopped drinking and once again focused on the research to be done in his spare time. He studiously recorded spells, potions, rituals, curses, charms and any variation thereof for Severus to peruse. Sadly, his coworkers had stopped bugging him after seeing his jump back to what passed for normal with him. Harry was grateful for their incessant asking after his condition, as it left no time to waste on wallowing in complications that would go away themselves. He fiercely reminded himself of that. It helped fire his determination and quell his misgivings.

As soon as he approached Smythe’s office, he rapped swiftly on the door so as not to give himself time to back out. His hands were shaking and sweaty, his heart was beating wildly in his chest, and there was a rushing in his ears, but he held his ground as he waited. He would see this project through regardless of Severus’ anger at him. For surely there was anger. Who would feel happy after being blown off without an explanation?

Soon enough, Severus opened the door, the ready smile on his face freezing at the sight of his visitor. Harry’s nervousness evaporated as the other man proceeded to impassively stare at him from his place at the door, his arms crossed. Harry twitched at the less than welcoming stance and stood up straighter. The other man’s stance reminded him terribly of the silent way Severus had mocked him when he was at school. It was both unnerving and infuriating.

“Afternoon,” he bit out. 

Severus’s lips turned up halfway between a sneer and a polite smile, his eyes glinting maliciously. “ _Mr. Evans!_ To what do I owe this _unexpected_ visit?”

Harry knew he deserved the thinly veiled sarcasm. He’d walked out without a word the last time they met after all, but damn it, Severus was making his life complicated. Before replying, he slowly inhaled and noisily let it out through his nose. This was better than the camaraderie they’d formed, Harry reasoned, reining in his annoyance. It would make this a whole lot easier. “I apologize for missing out on our meeting last weekend. I was unavailable due to personal matters.”

“Indeed,” he drawled. Harry met the seemingly bored gaze dead on, not moving an inch. Severus gave in and smiled icily. “Do come in.” Severus gestured to the chairs and inclined his head almost mockingly. Harry stiffly walked past him to stand in the middle of the room. The door banged shut with a flick of Severus’ wand.

The other man approached and loomed before him, his arms crossed. There was no fake geniality in Severus’ face anymore, only an eyebrow lifting in scorn. The air was thick with tension and expectations.

“Well?” Severus drawled. Harry’s eye twitched in anger.

“We continue our research. You go back to your own time. Everybody’s happy!”

Severus sneered. “Continue deluding yourself if you want. Do not drag me into it anymore.”

“Who said I was fooling myself?” Harry screamed, taking a step towards the other man. “I came here to fulfill my promise to help you and you throw it back in my face!”

“Take your help elsewhere. After all, I’m of no importance! You abandoned me soon enough. No explanation whatsoever,” Severus taunted. “Is that how you treat your _friends_?”

Harry finally reached his breaking point. Without a thought, he seized the front of Severus’ robes and pulled him forward, smashing their lips together.

Their teeth clicked painfully. Harry’s bottom lip tore. A hand fisted in the hair at his nape and tugged hard enough to tear it out. He could already feel a few loose strands in the equally firm hold he had on Severus’ locks. He was also sure the death grip he had on Severus’ arse was not comfortable, but Severus’ demanding tongue was so deep in his mouth that he was finding it hard to breathe, much less be mindful of the other’s comfort. Severus pushed him backwards, bumping against furniture, until the back of his legs met the arm of the couch. He was then pushed hard and toppled onto it, Severus following suit, their mouths never once breaking apart.

He had tried so hard to suppress his attraction to Severus. He really had. The temptation was just too great, however, and he succumbed, mouth first. He let go of the man’s hair and scrabbled at his robes as Severus laved his ear, both of them panting as they broke for air.

And now that he’d had a taste, he just had to have more.

Impatient, he took hold of the lapels of Severus’ robes and ripped them apart, multitudes of buttons flying everywhere. If the way Severus growled and hitched Harry’s leg around his waist was any indication, Severus didn’t mind. Harry splayed his hands between the partially open robes and reached the warm, sweaty, broad chest. The pads of his middle fingers sought out Severus’ nipples and massaged them to hard peaks. Severus keened and attacked his neck with fervor. The other man’s hands were not idle, either, as they worked on loosening Harry’s belt. Harry was moaning all the while.

Harry ground himself against the hardness near his groin as he pulled Severus closer with his legs. The contact was delicious, and the way Severus gripped his arse and brought them even closer made it more so. He was so aroused—more aroused than he ever was with Ginny. And if he was to go down the road of infidelity, he might as well enjoy it. Severus sucked at a sensitive spot on his neck, ending Harry’s rational thought. Harry groaned at the surrealism and illicitness of it all, his arms winding themselves in Severus’ long black locks again as he rubbed against the other man more shamelessly. That spurred Snape to relinquish his neck and fuck Harry’s mouth with his agile tongue in earnest as he ground his own erection harder against Harry’s.

With a well-angled push of Severus’ hips, a skim of Severus’ tongue over his palate and one of Severus’ hands inside his trousers, a finger pushing at his arsehole, Harry came with a cry, convulsing in the overwhelming cage of Severus’ arms and presence. It far outweighed any of the kinky sex Harry and Ginny had, which, despite Ron’s belief, consisted only of quick gropes at work and slightly exhibitionistic sex. Harry would have been embarrassed at how quickly he came, but his orgasm was so intense that he couldn’t stop it. Breathing harshly, the front of his trousers damp, Harry relaxed against the couch, his limbs languid and his brain like jelly.

Severus wasn’t finished, however. He let go of Harry’s lips to throw his head back, eyes screwed shut, sweat running down the column of his throat. Harry watched in fascination as the hand that, only seconds before, was in his hole deftly undid the button of Severus’ trousers and pulled out the biggest and longest cock Harry had ever seen. For some reason, it made Harry’s mouth water, and he reached a tentative finger to scoop the pre-come that had beaded at its head and put it in his mouth. ‘Not bad,’ Harry thought.

Severus growled, and with one swift move reversed their positions, pushing Harry’s head towards his crotch. Harry was bewildered, but the sight of such delicious cock was so enticing that he couldn’t resist. Up close it was even more magnificent.

Dropping to his knees, Harry spread Severus’ legs wide and tentatively cradled Severus’ prick in his hands, Severus’ hand never leaving his head. He tentatively licked the head of the hot cock. The pre-come was even better coming from the source. Severus’ thighs were trembling, mostly from the effort of keeping his hips from thrusting, Harry reckoned, as Harry closed his lips around the head of Severus’ cock and tentatively sucked. Severus whimpered, tightening his hold on Harry’s hair.

Looking up, Harry saw the most erotic thing he had ever seen: Severus was looking straight at him, his eyes smoldering with emotion, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his relatively shorter hair plastered across his forehead. He was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed with arousal. Harry’s spent cock twitched in desire.

Going back to the task at hand, Harry started sucking in earnest. He’d never sucked cock before, so he just sucked what he could without gagging. He wasn’t even halfway down the length, but from the look on Severus’ face it seemed he was enjoying it.

Responding to a particularly hard suck and a swipe at his slit, Severus grunted and came. The only warning Harry got was the tightening of the hand in his hair. He wanted to swallow the come that flooded his taste buds, but Severus yanked his head upwards and claimed his mouth. Harry moaned, kissing back just as passionately.

The kiss grew less heated as Severus’ orgasm slowed down. They broke apart eventually, sweaty and covered in come. Severus wandlessly cast a _Scourgify_. Regardless of Harry’s half-hard cock, he settled himself comfortably in Severus’ lap, sighing happily. That was, he was in bliss before he remembered how wrong what they did was.

“Oh, I’m screwed,” Harry groaned. Severus laughed, gathering Harry in his arms and running his hands through Harry’s hair.

“I haven’t even fucked you, Harry,” Severus purred in his ear before licking the shell. Harry groaned, his cock hardening once again. Damn the consequences.

“Is that a promise?” Harry breathed against the column of Severus’ throat before nipping at it. 

Severus growled, “Oh, it is.”

***

“Harry, where have you been for the past few nights? I’ve tried Firecalling you every evening here at home but there was no answer and your colleagues say you always leave work early.” Ginny grilled Harry one Sunday morning over breakfast. It was a sudden change from the past week when her husband had called every day. A nagging feeling of dread settled in her stomach.

Harry curiously lifted an eyebrow while he continued chewing his mouthful. Swallowing, he set down his spoon and answered casually, “I might have been out or simply sleeping. I’ve gone back to helping Severus again, you know.”

Oh, she did notice Harry leaving yesterday again after Harry’s two week stay at their house. But she certainly didn’t know that they were now on a first name basis. It was too familiar for her tastes. Ginny calmly put down her fork, her annoyance visible only in the tightening of her jaw as she said, “Severus? That’s a new development.”

Harry’s eyes widened and the cup halfway to his mouth stopped, but it was only for a second before he was acting at ease again and taking a sip of his coffee. He smiled at her easily after setting it down on the table. “He and I have worked together for almost three months, Gin. I’ve learned how to push his buttons. Calling him by his given name gets him every time.”

Some of the tension in her body loosened, but she was still on guard. “So you visit him a lot?”

“There are still lots of books to tackle, and to speed up the process we occasionally meet up. But I might just not have gotten your calls, ’cause when I come home I’m too knackered to do anything else but sleep.”

Ginny knew Harry was trying to steer her away from her suspicions. The dread she felt grew. She didn’t think him capable of betraying her, but she just had to make sure.

“Maybe,” she said conversationally as she picked up her fork and started eating once again. In her peripheral vision she saw Harry’s shoulders droop minutely. “By the way, Madam Pomfrey invited me to visit her in Bristol this week. I might be busy for a while learning new techniques from her. Will you miss me?”

She liked to think that Harry’s overly bright smile was for her alone.

“Of course, dear. I’ll miss you greatly.”

***

In truth, Harry and Severus’ research had reached a stalemate. They’d read and analyzed every book in the Hogwarts library and they’d even taken to meeting every night to work some more.

Or so Harry liked to think to prevent himself from thinking about Ginny and his unfaithfulness.

“Oh! Harder, Sev’rus! HARDER!” he screamed, Severus pounding his arse in vicious abandon. They were in Severus’ bed, as it was a weeknight, and thinking that Ginny was safely in her chambers somewhere in the castle, he’d abandoned all pretense of researching in favor of going directly to the sack. He thoroughly liked this plan.

“Harry… You’re. Mine. Harry. Mine!” With each word Severus thrust, punctuating his claim and jabbing Harry’s prostate dead on. Harry wailed in pleasure.

“Yes! Yours! Yours Sev’rus!”

Severus’ hand closed around his prick and he was lost. With one thrust against the tight grip Harry came, convulsing with a cry as his hole clenched in spasms around Severus’ cock. Spent, Harry melted against the sheets as Severus gave a few more thrusts until he came himself, biting Harry’s shoulder. Harry moaned at the pain and pleasure, feelings his insides coated with Severus’ seed.

Severus gently withdrew from Harry, the latter wailing at the loss, before settling down beside him and wrapping an arm around his tired, sated body. That one was one of their less adventurous but equally passionate shags. Harry sighed, throwing an arm around Severus’ stomach and snuggling against the hard, lean body.

As they lay down in companionable silence, however, the doubts Harry had came crawling back in. He thought about why Severus wasn’t in any hurry to go back to his time now that they’d started this relationship. And a relationship it was, since Harry could admit, if only to himself, that what he felt for the man wasn’t friendship anymore. It also didn’t help that Ginny, despite her busy schedule, was still paranoid and took to sending him an owl every night. Her less desirable qualities that Harry had always loathed were showing, pushing him to Severus. Ginny wasn’t even his first choice for marriage, but after the war, he’d craved the normality and so married her after she graduated.

Severus’ reappearance in his life made Harry face reality, however. Sure, the sex was great with Ginny and she was an enjoyable companion most of the time, but he was merely settling for contentment. Harry now knew that she wasn’t really the one he wanted. He was only grasping at it now. It was Severus. It always was him.

He had always felt strongly towards Severus. Even the Severus of his time brought out such strong feelings from within him, no matter that they were mostly negative. It was guaranteed that there would always be _something_ intense he would feel. Not like the monotonous life he had with Ginny. With Severus, he felt cared for. And he liked that the man took control of everything where Harry was concerned, a fact that Harry felt comfortable telling only to Severus.

He had his owl bring Ginny’s letters to him every time he wasn’t at home, which was always, but he knew that could only last so long. He’d have to go back home before Ginny found out about them. He knew it was selfish to spend more time with Severus, but their time was limited. Even if Severus didn’t appear concerned by it, the man was bound to go back to his original time. Harry clutched the man closer to him, the mere thought of Severus’ leaving saddening him. He didn’t love the man yet, but he was getting there.

If only the man didn’t have to leave, Harry could find out where this thing between them could go. If only he could leave his old life behind, he could explore the new things Severus had introduced him to. So many if onlys.

One thing was for certain, however. Severus’ leaving would eventually happen.

And Harry needed to have his unfulfilled life and Ginny to console him.

Severus kissed the top of his head, and the tender gesture was enough to lay Harry’s fears of the future to rest. They hadn’t found a way for Severus to go back yet. They had time.

***

Ginny Potter Flooed one random night to an empty home. She had just received an owl from her husband saying he was about to go to sleep, but not a sound could be heard and the air inside their house was stale with disuse. The dread that never left her intensified and threatened to steal her breath. She stumbled towards the window just in time to see Harry’s owl flying away carrying the letter she wrote minutes ago. A look at the owl’s cage confirmed a spell to automatically forward mail to a certain destination.

She shakily waved her wand over it to ascertain where. The paleness of her face quickly changed to an ugly beet red.

Striding towards the Floo, Ginny viciously grabbed a handful of powder from the mantel and threw it into the flames.

“HOGWARTS!”

***

BAM! BAM!

“SNAPE!” Ginny’s unmistakable voice shouted beyond the door of Severus’ quarters. Harry paled, the pleasant afterglow he was languishing in evaporating instantly. “OPEN UP!”

Severus briefly hugged him tighter before leaving the bed, wrapping a dressing gown around his naked body. Harry gasped, grabbing his arm.

“Don’t go out there! She’ll kill you!”

“Let go, Harry. I’m going to talk to her. I’ll explain to your wife that you’re not here and distract her while you run to the gates and Apparate home under your invisibility cloak.” Harry paled even further, hearing the misery in Severus words and understanding the implications of them.

“You knew…?” Harry whispered, his shaking hand falling away from Severus’ arm. 

Severus looked at him sharply, anguish in his eyes. “Yes.”

“What else do you know?” Harry pressed on, asking despite the dread creeping in his stomach.

“I’m not really from the past, Harry. I did a combination of a ritual and a potion to become young again and to start a new life.” Harry gasped, scrambling against the headboard. They were right. Hermione, Ron and Ginny were right! Severus extended his arm as if to reach for him, but lowered it down and closed his eyes. The air was so tense that their harsh breathing and the loud thump of Harry’s heart drowned out Ginny’s banging on the door.

“Why would you lie to me, Severus? After all that I’ve done for you?”

Severus’ hand fisted, and he spoke, his voice tight and controlled.

“I would have admitted to you that I survived Nagini’s attack the day you confronted me, but you jumped to a hasty conclusion and professed that you would help me. After much thought, I agreed so I could call you a lunatic when you exposed my true identity. When you didn’t, I just wanted to know how far you’d go with helping a man you loathed, and I grilled you with your lies.” Severus opened his eyes, his face open and serious.

“When you didn’t back down in the face of my probing questions, I was intrigued. And after our second meeting, I saw how sincere you were, and I couldn’t let go of this charade. I wanted to get to know you, and I was attracted to the man I found in you.”

“OPEN UP, OR I’LL HEX THIS DOOR DOWN!” 

Severus winced. “I wasn’t planning to act on it, but after spending time with you I just couldn’t help myself. I tested the waters and baited you,” Severus laughed hollowly. “I knew at some point you would flee but I did it anyway. I’m a masochist that way. In some twisted way, the moments when you thought of me, even if it was with spite, were worth the pain of being left behind.”

“It wasn’t spite!” Harry found himself reassuring the man, but Severus continued talking as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Imagine my utter surprise when you came back two weeks later, a detached expression on your face. I was certain you came back to taunt me, so I beat you to it. I did not expect you to act the way you did, but I suppose I should have foreseen it given your actions when you were at school. We shagged.” Severus sighed. “I thought it was a one-time thing for you. Revenge for the things I did to you in the method that would break me the most. But you came back again and again… After a while I started to believe you were sincere. For me, this past few days, we made love.”

Harry gasped. He was still confused, but he got a feeling that Severus was being sincere. He started to approach Severus again, but the man had turned his back on him and had opened the door to the sitting room. “But this has to stop. It was only a matter of time before we had to. I would not ruin your life, Harry.” Severus gulped rather audibly, and Harry saw his attempt to pull himself together.

“Severus…” He whispered.

“Leave, Mr. Potter. I will not bother you again.”

As soon as Severus opened the main door and faced a livid Ginny, Harry passed the man under his invisibility cloak, waiting for a hand or a touch to let him know. Let him know what, Harry didn’t know, but it never came. When he glanced back at Severus, he saw only Salvatore’s face. Even Severus’ eyes were blank.

As Harry ran to the gates of Hogwarts, he hastily rubbed at the tears rolling down his face. He had a feeling that it would be the last time he saw Severus.

***

Two and a half months.

The first week, he was barricaded inside the house, brooding and being suffocated by Ginny. The second week was spent sorting things out.

He’d thought a lot of things in that span of time: the possibility of Severus deceiving him once more, the other man’s plot to make him leave the life he had in favor of chasing a dream and what would become of him after letting go of his perfectly constructed normal life with his perfect wife and his perfect job. But as with everything in life, he had to take that chance and wish for the best.

And leap head first he did. A month was expended divorcing Ginny and solidifying the No Harry Potter rule in the Weasley family.

Two and a half months passed without seeing Severus. Two and a half months of Harry being miserable. Two and a half months.

And Harry found that despite Severus’ absence, the two and a half months was liberating. He was done with following expectations and settling for second best. Ron and Hermione had come around the past few days, and that was all the support he needed. Damn the Wizarding world. Damn the _Prophet_. Damn the Weasleys. Damn Ginny.

He was now ready to be happy. After all, he’d got his wish. Severus wouldn’t be going anywhere.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous about it, though.

He took a deep breath and quickly knocked twice on the door of an nondescript cottage located in a remote Wizarding village in Ireland. Nothing was stopping him now. He unconsciously held his breath as he waited.

The door opened.

“You’re early, Greta- Er, hello,” Smythe said in greeting, his smile not as enthusiastic as their first meeting. The door hadn’t been shut in his face yet, though, even if it was half-closed. It gave Harry hope.

“I’m not here for Potions lessons or any remedies. I want to get to know you.” Harry smiled, extending his hand to the man half behind the door. “I’m Harry Potter, single and divorced, Destroyer of Voldemort and all the other titles people like to give me.”

Harry almost took his hand back, Smythe was looking at him so hard, but after a while his hand was shaken and the door was opened wider.

“I’m Salvatore Smythe, former Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he paused, looking directly at Harry’s eyes intensely and squeezing his hand a bit tighter, “in both lifetimes.” Smythe let go of Harry’s hand. Harry smiled at the recognition.

“Nice to meet you, Salvatore. Would you care for a cup of coffee sometime?” Harry asked uncertainly. He was unsure how far he could go with this. Salvatore smiled, the joy now reaching his eyes.

“Perhaps some other time, Harry. We have all the time in the world.” Harry’s smile grew wider as he was pulled inside the house.

The door swung shut softly, the kiss shared between the two men inside and their life together the start of another story.

-The End-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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